I Have No Honest Idea
by Wolfstrom92
Summary: Okay, wow, trying to come up with inspiration for my other stories and this popped in my head; this is just completely random and I dunno how to really explain it. Lockhart x Filch. Random crack pairing of sorts. . . Feel free to judge


After a night of partying, Gilderoy Lockhart wasn't too surprised to wake up in an unfamiliar place. . . However, the chains hanging above his head were quite disconcerting, as was the loud snoring coming from beside him. Curious as to who the lucky witch or wizard was; Lockhart carefully turned over to find himself now face to face with the old squib who used to torment him as a child. Argus Filch. Memories of the previous night came rushing back instantly. Bumping into Filch on the stairwell. . . Spewing some drunken poetry. . . Kissing him. . . Allowing him to take him down into the depths of the dungeons. . . He remembered clearly the feeling of Filch's body pressed up against his own, rock hard and firm with pure muscle from years of manual labor. . . His strong calloused hands ever so gentle in their explorations. . . Lockhart shuddered despite himself. Despite his age, Filch had to proven to be quite the lover, one of the best he'd had in a long time. Surprise surprise. Smiling to himself, Lockhart carefully turned back over and slipped out of bed. As nice as the previous night had been, he didn't need to go getting attached to someone. Let alone a squib. Especially not a squib. He had his reputation to uphold, after all. . .

"Should've known you'd be the type to sneak out."

Not expecting to hear a female voice, Lockhart nearly jumped out of his skin and looked to find Filch's cat, Misses Norris, sitting atop a small stool, looking up at him.

"D-Did you just-"

The creature just blinked at him in response and commenced to cleaning herself.

"I must be going mad," Lockhart muttered aloud as he tugged on his trousers.

"You're not going mad," The same female voice assured him, "Over here. On the mantel."

Tentatively, Lockhart approached the fireplace to find a small silver framed hand-painted portrait of a beautiful dark haired woman in a white gown sitting on the mantel. Her silver-blue eyes intense and focused.

"Who are you?"

"Alexandria Norris."

"Did you say Norris?"

"Yes."

"Filch named his cat after you," Lockhart declared, rather lamely, as the final pieces of the puzzle fell into place, "What were you to him?"

"Fiance," Alexandria held up her hand to reveal a beautiful diamond ring, "We had plans to elope, Argus and I, but as you can tell, that never got to happen."

"Why not?" Lockhart queried, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I died," Alexandria revealed, sullenly, "I was thrown from my horse the day before I was to runaway with him. They say it was an accident, but I think my father might have had a hand in it. He would have done anything to keep me from being with Argus."

"I see," Lockhart frowned, "I'm so very sorry."

"Don't be," Alexandria chided, softly, "My life may have been short, but it was well lived. And before you ask, no, I'm not bothered by the fact Argus named his cat after me. I'm actually quite flattered.

"It is a rather nice gesture," Lockhart mused in agreement, but before he could comment further, a pair of strong arms suddenly enveloped his waist from behind, pulling him flush against a warm firm body.

"Talking to my dearly departed beloved, pet?"

Lockhart tensed instantly,

"Yes. Sorry, I didn't mean to snoop."

"It's quite alright," Filch nuzzled the crook of his neck before pressing a kiss there, "I don't mind. So long as she didn't give away too many of my secrets."

"Not to worry, I didn't," And with that, Alexandria got up and made her exodus.

Once she was gone, Lockhart relaxed against Filch,

"That was odd."

"Not really," Another kiss, this was one higher up, "She always leaves when I have company."

"As would I," Lockhart hummed in contentment, "Last night was fun. Though, it would have been better if I had been on top."

"I don't bottom," Filch hissed into his ear causing him to shiver as a chill ran down the length of his spine, "I never have and I never will."

Lockhart gulped.

"You know, you never did finish the last detention you served with me, thanks to that wretched Potter boy's father," Filch recalled without missing a beat, "I think it's way beyond time that we rectify that."

"Alright," Reputation be damned, Lockhart was not about to turn down such an enticing offer.


End file.
